Honor Among Thieves
When she was in Iraq, Hannah would make herself indispensable to the Ambassador, bide her time and, once she had achieved her objective, happily die a martyr’s death.
She had been left with only one purpose in life now that Simon was dead. To assassinate Saddam Hussein.
“Department of Commerce.”
“Alex Wagner, please,” said the Archivist.
“Who?”
“Alex Wagner. Office of Personnel.”
“Just a minute.” Another stretched minute.
“Personnel.”
“This is Calder Marshall, Archivist of the United States. I called yesterday for Ms. Wagner and you told me to try again today.”
“I wasn’t here yesterday, sir.”
“Well, it must have been one of your colleagues. Is Ms. Wagner available?”
“Just a minute.”
This time the Archivist waited several minutes.
“Alex Wagner,” said a brisk female voice.
“Ms. Wagner, my name is Calder Marshall. I’m the Archivist of the United States, and it’s extremely important that I contact Mr. Rex Butterworth, who was recently detailed to the White House by the Commerce Department.”
“Are you a former employer of Mr. Butterworth’s?” asked the brisk voice.
“No, I am not,” replied Marshall.
“Are you a relative?”
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid I cannot help you, Mr. Marshall.”
“Why’s that?” asked the Archivist.
“Because the Privacy Act prohibits us from giving out any personal information about government employees.”
“Can you tell me the name of the Commerce Secretary, or is that covered by the Privacy Act too?” the Archivist asked.
“Dick Fielding,” said the voice abruptly.
“Thank you for your assistance,” said the Archivist.
The phone went dead.
When Scott woke, his first memory was of Hannah. And then he slept.
When he woke a second time, all he could make out were blurred figures who appeared to be bending over him. And then he slept.
When he woke again, the blurs began to take some shape. Most of them seemed to be dressed in white. And then he slept.
When he woke the next time it was dark and he was alone. He felt so weak, so limp, as he tried to remember what had happened. And then he slept.